


the beast you've made of me (set it running free)

by iDragonSpyro



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F, Humor, Light Angst, Other Supernatural Creatures - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, Werewolves, characters from other series appear, i don't know what the fuck i'm doing this popped into my head and wouldn't leave, i have a beginning an end and things in the middle, it depends entirely on me getting off my ass and actually doing things, j.c is gonna be here and he WILL be the himbo best friend, no knowledge of these characters is needed, probably gonna be long?, question mark? might get heavy we'll see, sorry in advance, the osc knows about them but focuses on demons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iDragonSpyro/pseuds/iDragonSpyro
Summary: For a combined total of about ten seconds, nearest she can figure, in between the dying and the blackness and the demon, Ava finds herself in a meadow.There's a wolf in the meadow. It talks to her, sticks its paw inside her chest, and disappears in a flash of light.She doesn't think that much about it, once she... wakes up, focused on the demons and the nuns and the coming back to life and the demons again.Ronda is the first chance she gets to breathe a little, and at that point she's almost forgotten it.-------------Or: In which angels and demons aren't the only supernatural creatures to walk the earth, but the others don't always walk in the ways you expect. Ava figures she's dealing with enough bullshit already, what's a little more?
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> title from howl by florence + the machine  
> yes the purpose of this chapter is to make you go "what the fuck"  
> welcome to the madness.

She walks through the Meadow, stepping carefully around the red flowers scattered through the grass. The trees are silent as always, the glow from their leaves as comforting as it is eerie. The light reflects off of the flowers, casting a faint pink-red glow around the clearing. Though the Meadow itself is empty and quiet, she is just able to register the flicker of others in the leaves, doing whatever they wish.

This is eternity, after all.

She’s not quite sure why she’s here, today. She hasn’t been back often, not since her father joined them, but things work differently, here, so if she’s here she supposes she is supposed to be. 

She dips her head to smell a flower. It doesn’t tell her much, just gives the faint impression of a memory, though it’s hard to say of what. She raises her head and looks around, tail swishing, deciding to wait for whatever it is she’s here for.

She doesn’t have to wait long. Or maybe she does, but it doesn’t feel like it. Her ears flick up and she turns around, watching as the air takes on a faint shimmer, concentrating around a spot near the edge of the clearing. It slowly takes shape and falls to the grass.

She blinks at it, surprised. It’s a girl, pushing herself to her knees. Brown eyes, brown hair. There’s a cut on her forehead, already healing, as well as scratches down her arms and legs that are beginning to scar over. Most notably, there is a circular wound on her back, just below her shoulder blades, which seems to be entirely filled with light.

The girl stands slowly, brushing herself off and looking around. She jerks and stumbles back when her eyes land on her, still sitting in the center of the clearing. The girl brings her arms up defensively, as if preparing to be lunged at.

This was certainly new. She blinks. “Hello.”

The girl jumps slightly and growls. “How are you speaking to me?”

She tilts her head. “The same way you are speaking to me, I suppose.”

The girl- woman, really, now that she can look at her properly- lowers her arms slightly. “You’re a wolf.”

“Yes, I am.”

“And I’m a human.”

“That appears to be true,” she nods. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. What is your name?”

“Shannon.” The woman looks around. “Who are you?”

“Larka,” she answers, dipping her head.

“Okay,” Shannon mutters. “I’m not supposed to be here?”

“No,” Larka responds, regarding her carefully. “This place isn’t yours. Yours is in the Great Above.”

Shannon stares at her. “Have we met before?”

She shakes her head. “No. Not yet, at least. Maybe someday. Maybe another time, though, other versions of us.”

The other woman frowns. “How do you mean?”

Larka shrugs. “Time is different, here. It’s not always a line. Sometimes it goes back. Or to the side.”

Shannon shakes her head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I suppose not.”

She’s quiet, for a while, obviously thinking. “So, I’m not supposed to be here. Where am I supposed to be, how did I get _here,_ and how do I get _there?”_

Larka considers for a moment. “I believe you are supposed to be Above.”

Shannon growls again. “You’ve mentioned the Above twice. What is that?”

Larka looks up, to where the sky should be. “This is our after-place, where our powers put us for our eternities. Your after-place is supposed to be up there, where your powers are supposed to put you for yours.”

“After-place. You mean like Heaven?”

Larka blinks. “I suppose, if that is what yours is called. You would only be here if you were one of ours.”

Shannon stares at her a moment. “You mean a wolf?”

She shrugs. “One of the Wild’s creatures. Your kind generally are not thought to be ours. As they rejected the Wild places, the Wild places reject them.”

“Oh,” Shannon mutters, twisting her hands together. “So why would I be here?”

“Some faint connection, most likely,” Larka says. “Though I’m not sure where it comes from. The flowers are silent.”

“The flowers are silent, okay,” Shannon mutters. “Well, if I’m not supposed to be here, can I go back? I was kind of in the middle of something-”

The ground tremors slightly, and the leaves in the trees rustle. The fur on Larka’s back stands up and she whips around, growling lowly. “Quiet.”

Light shimmers around the center of the clearing, much more violently than before. The ground continues to shake, and the flowers draw back from the center, burying themselves beneath the earth.

Another girl rips through the glow, tumbling to the grass. She tries to push herself to her feet, limbs jerking as if she’s not quite in control of them. She grunts and falls, then tries again, still shaking. 

Her back has the same glowing mark as Shannon.

She looks up, gasping. “W-what-”

She cries out as her form flickers for a moment, fading rapidly in and out. Larka can feel Shannon start forward, hands reaching out to help.

“Are you alright?” she calls. “Who are you?”

The girl groans and wraps her arms around herself. “Where am I? What’s happening?”

Larka steps forward, teeth bared. Whatever she is, she is shaking the foundation of the Meadow, and a threat to the Meadow is a threat to all of them. _“You are not supposed to be here.”_

The girl groans weakly and uncurls, staring at Larka’s head above her, and tilts forward, crashing down at her paws. “I don’t mean to be here.”

Larka presses a paw to her chest, just above the girl’s heart. _“Who are you?”_

The girl starts to answer, but interrupts herself with a raw scream, thrashing as her form judders and flickers again. Larka’s paw sinks into the girl’s chest and her ears pin back, fear growing as she tries to pull back. “What are you-”

The girl arches upwards, screaming again, and Larka’s world explodes into a field of white light. She faintly registers the sound of the scream dying out, as well as Shannon’s own panicked yells, as everything fades to black.

She wakes in the gorge.

The stone walls are terrifyingly familiar, and as she flounders in the shallow water, Larka almost thinks she’s just in her own memories. Everything is much too settled, though. It had been unstable when she fell, practically creating itself for her to plunge to her death. The vague remnants of the castle loom above the gorge walls, casting part of it into a deep shadow.

Her hands grip at the rocks below her, water rushing around her as she kneels. She blinks several times before clambering to the bank, staring at her reflection. 

Her eyes are still yellow, her hair is still pure white, save for a single streak of silver-grey at the front. Turning her head, she sees that most of her scars have faded from her skin, except for the one that extends from her shoulder blade down to the middle of her back like a thin white ribbon. Her fingernails are dirty, though the water is washing them off. Her knees and elbows are scraped from the rocks. She is naked.

All in all, not the worst condition she’s been in.

She stands slowly and looks around, stretching her arms and wincing when the joints pop. By her best guess, it has been decades since she has been in this form. She takes stock of her surroundings and decides to follow the river until it hopefully leads out of the gorge, but then an image in the river catches her eye.

There’s a girl, standing at the edge of a cliff, back flickering with golden light. There are others, brandishing swords and knives and arrows that glow with a blue light that her mother had always warned her to be wary of. She has never forgotten that, and is fiercely reminded of it now when she sees herself standing beside them, facing a mass of shadow.

There is one more figure standing with them, but before Larka can convince herself that the figure is who she thinks it to be, the image swirls away downstream.

She stands there for a while, contemplating. It’s a good thing, for after a short time (and it’s so much easier to tell, here) there comes the faint sound of scuffling from a pile of rocks by the wall of the gorge. She turns around, waiting for the thing to show itself.

It’s a boy. Yellow eyes, one of them slit with a sliver of green. A scar runs from just below the corner of his eye to his ear, almost like a long tear. His fingernails are dirty from climbing the rocks, though he’s good enough that his knees are clear. His hair is pure black, save for a single streak of silver-grey at the front.

He freezes when he sees her.

It’s been a while, after all.

They both move at the same time, rushing at each other in an excited tangle of limbs, wrestling each other to the ground. Larka shoves her nose into the crook of his neck and laughs.

The boy laughs as well, rolling to lay beside her on the rocks. “I’ve come back every year. Sometimes more often, but always every year.”

Larka turns towards him. “I thought you would. I could feel it, sometimes.”

He hums and rolls to face her, eyes flickering over her face. “Welcome back, Larka.”

“Thank you, Fell,” she whispers, tangling their hands between them. “Father is well.”

“You saw him?”

Larka lets her eyes fall shut. “Not recently. Or maybe it was. Hard to tell. He’s not angry. I expect Mother joined him, or will join him, at some point.”

She can feel Fell shifting to lie on his back. “I tried to reach you. All I got was shadow.”

With that, the black mass from the stream flashes to the front of Larka’s mind. She stands, stumbling slightly, and turns to pull Fell up. “There are things. I’m not sure when. They haven’t happened yet, I don’t think.”

He nods, allowing her to pull him to his feet. “I’ve seen some. That’s why I kept coming back. I knew you had to be there eventually.”

She studies him a moment. He’s different, which makes sense. His time has been linear, where hers had done as it pleased. At the same time, he is much the same, enough so that they are still siblings in every sense of the word. 

“Your hair,” she murmurs, twisting the lock of silver between her fingers.

He nods. “I don’t think it goes away. It’s like that down to the roots. Like a reminder, I suppose. You match me, now.”

She nods quietly. “We always have, maybe. It just took a while to get here. It’s time to move, I think.”

Fell offers her his hand, and Larka takes it, letting him lead her over the rocks to the passage behind it, leaving the shadow of the crumbled castle and emerging into the light of the world beyond.

An image of the girl in the stream lingers in the back of the Larka’s mind. If she were to study it, she might find it to seem familiar, like a lost dream.

Or maybe a memory.


	2. get out of this town (you're a wolf, boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava wanders Ronda and makes a friend, who makes tea. Shadows are assholes and should not be interacted with. Forests are pretty cool. The man the myth the legend returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from you're a wolf by sea wolf. let's see how long we can keep the theme going.  
> this chapter unfortunately does not include the sisters. this chapter and the next one will be used to introduce a couple of characters and set out some exposition and explanation, for ava's benefit and yours. the third proper chapter will have ava meeting back up with the sisters around where she does in the show.

Mostly she gets flashes.

Just for the first night, really. The panic makes her mind go kinda fuzzy and fade in and out like a radio station.

Most of what Ava remembers from the first night doesn’t make much sense, which she guesses is why she has such a hard time remembering. Her mind trying to protect herself from the crazy.

It slows down and starts staying faded in when J.C pulls her out of the pool. It’s still weird for her, but it’s not glowing-death-monster-trying-to-kill-her weird, and it’s definitely not I-was-definitely-dead-and-now-I’m-not weird. 

Her mind definitely does _not_ slow down when she is taken to Cat’s Cradle, but a lot of things start to make a lot more sense, so she supposes it’s a fair trade-off.

From the time she runs away from the Cradle to wandering the countryside with Mary, she hasn’t had very much time to process the past… however long it’s been since she stumbled her way out of the church and into a street filled with more life than she had experienced in years.

So it’s fair to say her memories of that night are rather muddled, and fairly repressed. There are two things she remembers clearly.

One: for a combined total of about ten seconds, nearest she can figure, in between the dying and the blackness and the demon, Ava found herself in a meadow.

Two: There's a wolf in the meadow. It talks to her, sticks its paw inside her chest, and disappears in a flash of light.

There are other things to focus on when she wakes up, so she doesn’t think about it much (except once, on the ferry, with J.C asleep next to her. The quiet was so loud and something told her to howl into it, but before she could J.C had shifted, mumbling something about running and a forest, and the urge had faded as suddenly as it came). Ronda is the first real chance she has to breathe a little, and at that point she has practically forgotten it, even the parts she remembered initially.

But then, Mary and Ava sleep in the church, and Ava dreams.

The old Halo Bearer, Shannon, talks to her, reaches out to her, but before Ava can talk to her properly, ask any sort of useful question, her mind shudders and jerks her somewhere else.

It’s faded and dulled at the edges, but it’s familiar. There’s the faint impression of dirt under her knees, a red flower caught between her fingers in the grass. The trees stand as silent as they did before, though now she can faintly sense (sense, because she can’t see them and she can’t hear them but she knows they are there all the same) others moving just beyond the shadows of the branches.

“You are not supposed to be back.”

The wolf is here again too.

Ava scrambles to her feet and steps back. “I don’t want to be. I barely remember this place.”

The wolf doesn’t stand over her this time, or shove its paw through her chest. Instead, it sits quietly in the middle of the clearing, regarding Ava through piercing yellow eyes.

Ava swallows harshly and clenches her fists at her side.

“Did you know,” the wolf starts, “that before you and the other one, the one that glowed, not a single outsider has come to this place since it was born?”

Ava takes a breath. “I didn’t. I didn’t mean to come here, earlier or right now, and I really don’t mean to intrude and I’m not entirely sure what you mean by outsider-”

The wolf stands, waving its tail. “I know you didn’t mean to. The other one didn’t either. As for being an outsider…” It starts circling her slowly. “What has happened since you were here last?”

And for some godforsaken (which really, she must be, at this point) reason, Ava tells the wolf. She starts with waking up on the slab, getting chased by a glowing monster, falling into the pool, Arq-Tech, and she keeps going until she reaches the church.

By the time she finishes, the wolf has circled her three times. “That’s quite the tale.”

Ava frowns. “You’re a talking wolf.”

It nods. “So I am.”

“Is that what you meant by me being an outsider?”

The wolf stands slowly and walks towards her. It’s tall enough to stare directly into her eyes, and Ava fights the urge to step back.

The wolf studies her for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure that you are.”

The world explodes into light.

Ava wakes up.

Mary is still asleep, and she calms her breathing and her heartbeat quietly, staring up at the ceiling of the church. She drifts off again.

When Mary leaves, Ava almost wants to go with her, if only to stay with what has become familiar. Beatrice is in that car, and Ava’s heart gives a small lurch as she remembers how she had comforted her, and how she had left without a word soon after. She thinks she should go if only to make up for that. Something tells her that’s not right, though, so Ava turns and walks back into the town. 

She thinks as she walks, attempting to parse through the events of the past few days. The demon and the fight in the butcher shop seem… oddly normal. It keeps with the general craziness of the past few weeks, at least. 

What she really can’t figure out is the dream.

She’s thought about it for hours since it happened, and nothing is clearer. The symbolism or subconscious speaking to her or whatever the fuck those fantasy shows said manifested in dreams seemed to be strikingly absent. What could a white wolf telling her she shouldn’t be in a magic field of flowers mean?

Ava makes her way to Mateo’s restaurant, slipping inside and blinking as her eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting. It’s mostly empty at this time, a few scattered couples drinking tea or sharing a basket of bread. What catches her eye, though, is a lone girl sitting in a corner and reading. 

Her hair is white, a single streak of grey falling towards the front. Her shoulders are broad, arms lean, and her eyes flicker quickly around the room as she turns a page.

In a split second decision that Ava is barely conscious of making, she walks over to her table.

The girl looks up at her immediately, almost as if she were waiting for her. “Hello.”

Ava really didn’t think this through. “Hi.”

The girl quirks a brow. “Would you like to sit?”

She does.

The girl studies her another moment, light brown eyes flicking over Ava’s face. “My name is Larka. You’re new around here.”

She nods. “I’m Ava. And yes, I am. I was with a… friend, but now it’s just me.”

“Mary.”

Ava nods again. “You know her?”

Larka shakes her head. “I’ve heard of her. I’ve never met her.”

“Oh.”

The conversation lapses into silence. Larka returns to her book.

Ava feels surprisingly content to sit here, looking around the room and watching customers come and go. It’s strangely peaceful, and it doesn’t feel like she’s being ignored, more like the other girl had accepted her presence and was letting her exist in her own space near her.

The sound of the book closing draws Ava’s attention back to Larke, who is tucking a few things into a bag slung over the back of her chair. She stands and looks down at Ava. “You were staying in the church?”

“Yeah,” Ava responds.

Larka nods and starts walking to the door. “Come on.”

Ava follows her through the town, to a little building surrounded by flowers and pots filled with fresh herbs.

Larka leads her in, dropping her bag by the door. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. I’m afraid I don’t have a bed but I’m sure the couch will be more comfortable than the benches at the church.”

Ava blinks. “The pews? Yeah, those weren’t the best.”

Larka waves a hand. “Yes, those. Would you like some tea?”

Ava nods, and Larka moves to a small kitchen off of the main room. “What would you like?”

Ava follows her, leaning in the doorway. “I don’t know. I haven’t had much tea.”

Larka puts a pot of water on the stove. “You’re an interesting one, huh, Ava?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Larka hums slightly, and they once again lapse into silence while they wait.

The water starts bubbling up the sides of the pot, and Larka pours it into two mugs, tea bags rising to the top. She sets the pot down and turns to face Ava.

“So,” she starts, eyes flickering over her face again. “How did you meet Mary?”

Ava freezes for a moment. How is she supposed to answer that? She can’t tell the truth- although, wait, if Larka knew who Mary was, she probably knew about the explosion, right?

“Through the OSC,” she finally settles on. “I got attacked, she chased me.” Not entirely a lie.

Larka nods, grabbing a spoon and gently stirring the mugs. “Makes sense. You didn’t join up?”

Ava shakes her head. “I had- things. Life to live. I hadn’t gotten to live before, not really. I… might go back, though. Eventually.”

She hums again and hands Ava a mug, taking a sip of her own. “I’m sure everything will happen as it should.”

And that’s… a weird way of putting it, but sure. Ava sips her tea, brows raising appreciatively. “This is good.”

Larka smiles. “Old family blend. Ginger and mint, a bit of vervain. Should help relax you, it’s getting late.”

Sure enough, when Ava glances out the window, she can see the just-beginning-to-wane moon poking over the mountains. They must have stayed in the restaurant longer than she thought.

Larka sets her mug down and motions for Ava to follow her back to the main room. “I’ll set the couch up, and grab some clothes for you to borrow. I assume you don’t have any others?”

Ava shakes her head, and Larka shrugs.

“Mine might be a bit too big, but they should be fine. Grab a blanket?”

Half an hour later, Ava is curled on the couch, dressed in an old sweatshirt and sweatpants. Larka had bid her goodnight and disappeared to another room a little bit ago, so Ava had busied herself with fiddling with the blankets and the clothes until she decided to try for sleep. The clothes are a bit strange, mostly because they feel so big. The smell is… interesting. She would almost call it musky, but there’s something fresh about it as well that she can’t really place. 

It is comforting, though, and combined with the tea and the soft cushions and the warm blankets, Ava drops off fairly quickly.

Of course, nothing can ever be easy.

Ava nearly groans out loud when she catches a flower between her fingers.

“You’re here, again.”

She pushes herself to her feet and glares at the wolf. “I can see that.”

The wolf blinks its yellow eyes at her calmly. “This is rather unusual. You are alive, yes?”

Ava snorts. “Yeah, I am. Now.”

It flicks its ears. “You weren’t the first time.”

“No.”

“Perhaps that is what is tying you here,” the wolf muses. “Though the question of how you got here in the first place remains.”

Ava sighs and sits in the grass, plucking a few blades and rolling them between her fingers. “Beats me. I’d rather have normal dreams.”

The wolf tilts its head. “What kind of dreams are considered normal?”

She shrugs. “Dunno. Flying, magic, going to the store… teeth, for some reason, lots of variants for teeth…”

If wolves could frown, this one would be. “Why would you want to dream about teeth?”

“I wouldn’t. It’d be cool to dream about the others, though. I’ve never had them.”

The wolf is quiet for a minute. “What dreams do you usually have?”

Ava frowns. “Running. A lot of running. Sometimes by a beach, a lot in a forest. Full out running, too, like I’m being chased, or maybe I just don’t care about my limits.”

The wolf stares at her silently, and Ava tries not to squirm under its gaze. 

She picks a flower. It sits lightly in her palm, smelling like something fresh and familiar.

Light starts seeping into the edges of Ava’s vision, much slower than it had the other times.

The wolf stands. “Until next time, Ava Silva.”

As the light reaches the center of her vision, Ava’s eyes widen. She’d never told the wolf her name.

Ava wakes up by falling off of the couch.

She lies on the floor for a bit, wanting to go back to sleep but too tired to drag herself back onto the couch, so she stays.

Feet shuffle into her field of vision, and she looks up to find Larka staring down at her, lips curled in an amused grin. “Having fun?”

Ava flops onto her back and nods. “I am, yes.”

Larka nods. “Good for you. Would you like to get up?”

She shrugs and rolls to her feet, stretching slightly. “I suppose. Do you have things to do today?”

Larka throws another set of clothes at her and goes towards the kitchen. “A couple of errands in town. You’re free to do what you want.”

Ava shrugs. “I’ll probably wander. I have nothing to do and nowhere to be, for now.” 

Larks nods at her. “You’re welcome to come back, or not. Lock the door behind you.” And she leaves.

Ava stares after her. She’s not the most well-versed in social norms, but she’s pretty sure that most people don’t leave strangers unattended in their homes.

...Whatever. It’s not like it’s the weirdest things from the past few weeks.

So Ava leaves, wandering around town for the day. She stops by the restaurant to help Mateo for a little, strolls through the various shops set up on the streets and out of people’s homes. She takes in the fresh air, relishing in the slight breeze that runs through her hair and over her skin.

It’s peaceful.

So of-fucking- _course_ something happens.

Ava doesn’t see anything, exactly. There’s no wisp of red smoke, no burning glow ripping into the air. But there’s a dark pulse of _something,_ drawing her into an alley off of a side street near the center of town. She flips the small divinium dagger into her hand, creeping forward quietly.

She’s not at all expecting what she finds.

Two giant figures, wrapped entirely in shadow, standing over a single unconscious form. They seem humanoid, until they don’t. They have huge limbs, stretched and distorted and shifting horribly, and they have what seem to be tails. Two protrusions from what Ava assumes to be their heads, bulky and stretched into an imitation of a snout, seem to act as ears, swivelling left and right.

Ava sucks in a breath.

They turn towards her.

She almost drops the dagger when she sees what she supposes are the things’ eyes, burning a pure white light through their heads. She barely registers the Halo burning at her back, stuck in the combined force of the shadows’ swirling gazes.

One of them opens its jaws and lets out a sound she supposes is a growl, something Ava can _feel,_ but can’t hear. The other lunges for her. Ava lashes out with the dagger.

It’s only then that she notices the blade isn’t glowing.

It goes through the shadow like smoke, and it lashes an arm across her shoulders, throwing her against the wall. She scrambles to her feet, watches as the second shadow leaps for her as well, and barely thinks as she throws her arms in front of her face, the Halo flaring ever brighter at her back.

The shadows are thrown back by a burst of light, and Ava nearly crumples to the ground as the energy seeps out of her. She definitely can’t do that again.

Unfortunately, the shadows don’t seem to care what she can or can’t do, because they’re already getting up. Ava stumbles, bracing an arm against the wall, dagger held out weakly in front of her as they leap again.

A streak of white cuts them off, shoving them back, and they snarl, twisting to claw at the smaller shape. There’s an answering snarl, and a rough voice telling them to leave, and the quick flash of something pearly-white and sharp.

Another, smaller burst of light shines out, this time from the newcomer, and the shadows dissipate.

Ava looks up, her arms no longer trembling. She doesn’t know why, but she’s not surprised to see Larka standing there, flipping some kind of knife into her pocket.

She swallows. “How did you-”

Before she can get the sentence out, she’s being lifted and slammed into the alley wall, a hand twisting her arm and forcing her to drop the knife. Larka’s face is very close to hers, mouth twisted into a snarl, brows drawn together.

“What are you?” She demands. “Who sent you?”

Ava barely registers Larka’s words, focused entirely on her eyes.

Her very, very yellow eyes.

“You,” she chokes out. “From the meadow.”

Larka growls. “Me. From the meadow. Now, the truth this time.”

“I- I already told you-” Ava gets out. “I died. Then I undied. Now you’re pinning me to the wall of an alley after murdering some shadows.”

Larka blinks and lets her drop. “You really don’t know.”

Ava gasps in a breath. “I don’t even know what you’re referring to.”

Larka studies her for a long moment, and Ava takes the time to return the favor. She’s not entirely sure where the recognition of the wolf came from, but now that it’s been made, it feels obvious. It’s not so much her actual appearance but how she carries herself: the obvious power in her shoulders, the loose movements of her limbs, the constant flickering of her eyes.

Larka nods to herself. “We need to go.”

Ava glares up at her. “After that? Right now? With you? No.”

She frowns. “‘After that is precisely why we need to go. Their master will be sending more.”

 _Their master._ Ava really wants to ask. She wants to ask a lot of things, really.

Larka stares down at her. “You have questions.”

Ava nods slowly.

She sticks a hand out. “I can start answering on the way.”

Ava thinks for a second. She takes the hand.

The old dirt road stretches into the distance, winding through hills and around the side of a forest. Ava has lost track of time, eyes on the ground in front of her as she and Larka walk. 

She’s not entirely sure how to start, and Larka doesn’t seem to be inclined to begin on her own, so Ava tries to sort her thoughts.

Larka glances over at her. “You can ask.”

“What were those?” is the first thing that bursts out, and Ava guesses that makes sense. It seemed to be the most pressing issue.

Larka sighs. “Searchers. They aren’t from here.”

Ava snorts. “No kidding.”

Larka grins wryly. “No kidding. They’re from the meadow.”

“Oh.” Ava walks in silence for a minute. “Are they like demons?”

“Not quite,” Larka shakes her head. “They are… they’re like spirits. They come to this world following the call of a master, and when their task is completed they move on. They are not inherently good, and they are not inherently bad. They simply are. Their actions are defined by the one that called them here.”

Ava shivers slightly. “And who can call them here?”

“One of their own. My own. It’s an old ritual, but powerful.”

Ava kicks a rock. “You took them out easy enough. Weird that my knife didn’t do anything, but they didn’t put up much of a fight to you.”

Larka stops walking, fingers grasping Ava’s upper arm as she turns to face her. _”Do not._ Searchers are not weak, nor are they something to trifle with. They do not sleep, they do not eat, they do not drink. They do not need, except to fulfil their duty, which they almost always do, to the exclusion of all else. They do not stop, and if they do it is because their master has more. Do you understand?”

Ava stares at her, eyes wide. She nods quickly. “Definitely. Got it. I promise.”

Larka releases her arm and continues walking. Ava hurries after her, next question burning on her mind. “What did you use? To hurt them, I mean.”

Larka pulls a blade out from somewhere around her waist, handing it to Ava by the handle. “Searchers are impressions of the old and gone, manifestations of our kind that cross over in an attempt to move on. As such, a physical weapon made from what they once were works to harm them.”

Ava turns the blade over in her hands. It still has that faint pearly shimmer, catching in the sun. The blade itself is curved slightly, thicker at the base of the handle and narrowing to a fine point at the tip. Irregular serration ridges line the inner edge of the blade. The shape niggles at the back of Ava’s mind, but it’s far too big to be what she thinks it is.

Ava looks up at Larka, still walking at a steady pace, yellow eyes flicking over the hills. There’s one more question.

“What are you?”

Larka turns her head and looks at her. “You know that already.”

She does. “What am I?”

Larka is quiet for several minutes. “A lot of things. Perhaps one of us. The more you visit the Meadow the more likely that seems. The Halo is complicated.”

“You know about that.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

She nods. “I do. It certainly poses interesting questions, at the very least. Generally we try to avoid the wielders of the blue metal, but I suppose that will prove rather difficult given your presence here.”

Ava looks at her. “Why do you avoid them?”

Larka waves a hand. “Not important. There’s a lot more to tell you, and I would rather not go over it twice. You’ll see later.”

Ava decides to accept this. She’s not withholding information, she’s just waiting for a bit. They lapse into silence until Ava remembers some stupid bit of information from some TV show she had seen in the orphanage.

“The tea!” she shouts, spinning to face Larka. “The tea, yesterday, you said it had vervain in it! Did you think I was a vampire? Do vampires exist? Is that a thing?”

Larka grins at her, amused. “A little test. If you had been one, you probably wouldn’t have been dead, just itchy and out of it for a little while. And I don’t know if they exist, but it’s always better to have something on hand, wouldn’t you say?”

Ava snorts, and continues down the road.

The dirt road eventually turns into more of a beaten path, winding through trees that grow denser as they continue. Ava revels in the rustling of the leaves in the wind, and silently notes that Larka becomes less and less tense the deeper in they go.

“Where exactly are we going, anyways?” She calls to her, stopping at the top of a small rise.

Larka turns back to grin at Ava. “Home, Ava. There’s some people you need to see.”

“Ominous.”

“I live for the drama.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s quite accurate.”

Larka sighs and grabs Ava’s arm, pulling her through the last few trees and into a small clearing. There’s a house in the middle of it, a cottage, really, surrounded by grass and flowers, and the peacefulness of the scene settles into Ava’s bones.

For about five seconds.

Then the door slams open and a figure is hurtling towards them, slamming into Ava and lifting her up in a spinning hug. She squeaks slightly, stumbling a bit as she’s set back on the ground.

“Ava!” J.C laughs, whirling around in an excited circle, not unlike an energetic puppy.

“I- what?” Ava stutters. “I thought you were- I mean, the warehouse-”

“Yeah! Turns out! There’s even more bullshit than I thought! Larka found me like a week ago, I’ve been hanging around here with Fell and Breeze and Tern-”

_”Who?”_

He waves a hand. “You’ll meet them later, they’re super cool! But they’re doing something right now that I wasn’t allowed to help with for some reason so here I am.”

Ava presses her fingers to her temple in a futile attempt to help sort through the whirlwind of information J.C was throwing at her. “What is happening.”

Larka claps her on the shoulder and she yelps. “Meeting the squad, kid. Fair warning, they’re all idiots that almost seem to _try_ to get themselves killed every other week.”

“Hey!” J.C protests. “That’s not fair! Every other day, at the least!”

Larka nods at him, snorting. “I was trying to be nice, but alright.”

He grins and grabs Ava’s arm, spinning her around. “You thought the glowing space portals were bad? Wait till you see the bullshit Tern makes me blow up on a regular basis. I think you’ll get along really well and that fucking terrifies me actually, Larka are you sure we thought this through?”

“You’re not entirely capable of coherent thought, so that would be a no.”

Ava still doesn’t understand what’s happening. So pretty par for the course these days, unfortunately. “Remember when I asked what was happening? No one actually answered and it feels like things got worse! So let’s get back to that maybe.”  
J.C pats her head. “Patience, young cub. All will be revealed in time.”

She slaps his hand away, frowning. “Nope. No time. Explanations. I have dealt with too much ‘we’ll tell you later’ bullshit already in the past, like, _week,_ and a lot of those things had to do with, say, getting chased by red smoke! And also glowing chunks of metal, and now black shadows, so maybe, _this_ time, we _tell_ Ava what’s going on, so when the next thing happens she can, just maybe, do something instead of getting thrown into building, or hit with a stick, or stuck in a wall?”

As she finishes her angry rambling, Ava realizes that J.C’s gaze is no longer on her, instead focused just beyond her shoulder. Next to her, Larka has turned around, looking in the same direction.

Ava turns around.

A giant black wolf snarls at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to those that read and gave kudos to the prologue, even though that was a whole lot of bullshit that's entire purpose was to make people go "what the fuck." we have a bit of movement in this chapter, and a lot of explanation coming next chapter, then we can actually start developing plot. thanks for the patience both with the story and with the fact that this has been sitting in a doc for like a month and i kept forgetting to post it.  
> come tell me how fucking stupid this is on my tumblr, @idragonspyro

**Author's Note:**

> like i said at the beginning, welcome to the madness. i don't know what i'm doing, i don't know how long this will be, and i don't have an update schedule.  
> should be fine.  
> as mentioned in the tags, characters and inspiration from other works appear here. no knowledge of them or their canon is required, though you are free to ask about it.  
> this will be the only chapter not from the point of view of ava, beatrice, or another canon character. probably. i think.  
> come tell me how fucking stupid this is on my tumblr, @idragonspyro


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